Second Reign
by NaomiSpice
Summary: Light Yagami's legacy was readily forgotten, considering most of what happened was kept in the dark by Interpol. But what happens when a young Shinigami with darker intentions has a much different approach to changing the world? The humans will never see it coming. ALL OC's EDITED: slight name changes from the original. If you are reading for the first time- just enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

My eyes flickered like florescent lights, then I realized I was looking at a florescent light. Annoyingly bright really. My whole body was weak. I couldn't move. Why was I here again? I can't remember...

"How are you, my dear?" A kind voice referred to me.

I at first forgot how to speak, "I-I'm better, I t-think." I almost regretted my response, my body ached, and my muscles strained with every movement.

The nurse, clad in white, smiled down at me in the long hospital bed. "I'll bring you some blankets."

I wasn't cold or anything, but a comforting blanket sure sounded nice. Wait- Why am I in a hospital? Did something happen? A car crash? I don't understand...Suddenly a door opened, and the same nurse came in with three blankets. Ugh. They looked itchy. My sheets would have been just fine.

"You have a visitor, Miss Thatch."

Oh..?

"A friend of mine?"

"He claims to be a close friend. Shall I permit him?"

"Yes."

I really didn't know who to expect at this point. I had no friends, really. Just Jake. But he'd been in on vacation in the Caribbean for the whole week. I doubt it's him.

After the nurse leaves, a tallish guy in a deep blue button-up shirt with the long sleeves rolled up partly. His jeans were dark yet faded...Jake?

"Makenna? Are you alright? I flew in from Haiti to see if you were alright."

"Y-you did?"

"Uh-huh." he nods and reaches to hug me.

"Please don't, I'm terribly achy."

"Oh…sorry. I bet you are."

"I don't meant to sound stupid or anything, but what happened to me?"

"You don't remember?"

"No." I shook my head slowly, straining to remember.

Honestly, I had no clue. It must have been really serious for Jake to come home just to see if I was OK.

"You were jumped by 4 upper-class guys at the University, but then **you all had ****_heart attacks_**_._ Crazy, right? The doctors had no explanation. You'd been unconscious for a long time, but you pulled through. Wish I could say the same for the other guys, what they did was wrong, but they didn't deserve to die. You seriously don't remember?"

Woa...

"No, I don't..

Jake stopped and looked at me with a content smile. "I'm glad I came home. I was beginning to miss seeing you every day."

I smiled. Jake was a good friend.

I got a good look around the hospital environment while the awkward silence continued. The window in my room had white metal shades, blocking the natural light. White walls. White floors. Nurses dressed in white. White. White. White. Not to make myself sound like a gothic freak- but the place would look a lot better if it were all black, and covered in fake blood stains. You know, the Hollywood horror hospital type scene. This place reeked of personal invasion. Like how they make you wear hospital gowns, and...well...I just think that it's a little_ too _personal. Speaking of, I was wearing one of those horrid hospital gown. Creepers. Undressing a 19 year old girl and then re-dressing her into hardly anything at all. Disgusting. If it were some other chick, I'd be glad it wasn't me. But it was me.

Jake cleared his throat, "The doctor said you could go home when you woke up. And since you're awake…" He was suggesting I go home today.

"Going home sounds nice" I smiled again.

"Well, you can stay in bed if you still feel sickish, but I'll start to pack up your stuff. Ok?"

Stuff? I'm guessing Aunt Marissa dropped off some things for me.

I followed Jake's gestures with my eyes, as he came up to a small dresser and book shelf. A few photos scattered, a cross necklace, and a book or two. I suspect the dresser had a few of my clothes in it. Aunt Marissa must have thought I would have to stay long after I became conscious.

After the same nurse made another visit, dropping off some medication that I could take home, I dressed in the small (and very sanitary) bathroom, and collected the few items that sat on the bedside table. A get well card from my Aunt, and…a notebook?

There was nothing on its solid black cover. I immediately picked it up, and for some reason, my heart jumped. Fear rushed through my mind- considering how I ended up here, the last thing I was is for my heart to jump. Perhaps it's just an after-shock. I opened the top cover of the hard-back notebook. Inside, there was a title that read: How To Use.

What is this thing? How to use a notebook?

"Makenna? Whatcha got there?" Jake stopped after zipping up a duffel bag.

"Dunno. It's just a notebook."

"Weird. Well, finder's keepers! Let's go. My dad's got the car out waiting for us in the parking lot."

Yes! I loved Mr. Corey's car. A 1970's Chevelle; romantically red and just about as low as a car could be to the pavement. He treats it like his second child. I reached for the pink duffel bag- preparing to sling it over my shoulder, but Jake scooped it up before I could.

A puzzled look crossed my face.

"Don't worry, Makenna, I got it." He smiled sweetly, and pushed open the door, leading me into a busy hall. More robotically identical nurses passed us from both directions. Gosh, I have to admit, hospitals really do smell bad. Like old people and bitter medicine.

Jake had me follow him to the ground floor. Apparently, I was on the 3rd floor. Jake told me to wait in the lobby while he checked me out so I could go home.

I sat down for a moment on a stiff armchair. And, I got a weird feeling... Like I was being watched. from behind or above me – or both. I dared not look; afraid to appear crazy.

"Makenna, we can go now. My dad's waiting just out front."

I got up, and walked beside him out the automated door that led outside. Sure enough, a hot jalapeño-red Chevelle, was sitting on the curb. Smiling to myself, I was glad to be going home.


	2. Chapter 2

"Welcome home, Makenna, dear." Aunt Marissa daintily welcomed herself into my arms.

"Hi." My voice sounded really dull.

"Are you hungry? Do you want something? How about a hot bath?" she lifted away from me, but still held on to my shoulders.

"No thanks, just glad to be home."

Jake came up from behind me and dropped my bag at the open front door. "Will you be alright from here?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright. Thanks Jake."

He awkwardly nods, like he's expecting a 'thank you kiss' or something.

I just return the nod, and he hops down the porch back to his dad's car.

Aunt Marissa shuts the door behind him, and then turns to me as if she wanted to start some conversation. I just ignore her like usual and head up to my room. Dragging the pink bag behind me, I trudged (in a positive way) up to my room. It was the only room on the top floor. It had originally been two rooms, but the bedroom upstairs was so small, that Uncle Bill knocked out the wall between it and a small office. Then he conjoined the bathroom to make it easier to access. So, now it's the second master bedroom. My staircase is the steepest thing, and Jake often complained about it when we were kids, I normaly wouldn't notice, but being bedridden for a week takes a lot out of you. One thing I did notice was that I _still_ had that strange feeling; like I was being watched. My heart seemed to beat extremely slow, and my lungs didn't breathe fully. Was this just an effect from the pills I got? Everything has side effects I suppose.

I reached the peak of the staircase, opening the only door into my room. The old hardwood floors creeked lightly under my feet.

My room felt, well, homey. My bed was still perfectly made, and everything was as it was left the day I had... a heart attack. None of it made any sense to me. I had a heart attack- and then the rest of the guys had one at the same time. They all died, but I lived...

I dropped my bag on the floor by my feet, and turned directly around-

I began to hyperventilate- was I going crazy? Is it the drugs?

There was a devil in my room, standing right behind me.

Tall and slim, it's body looked to be covered in ripped black leather clothing. As I looked it over timidly, I realized that it wasn't touching the ground; my eyes drew up its tall frame to find a pair of hooked demonic wings. I found myself gawking at its face- rather stunning for such a gaudy character. I recognized right away that _it_ was a 'he', and HE had gorgeous deep red punk-rocker hair that crisscrossed his pale face in various places. I caught sight of a small sparkle just below his lip; it was a ruby stud of some kind.

"Are you done staring at me, human?"

I took a step back, and attempted to regain my breath, "You're real?"

I wasn't entirely sure at this point if I was still going crazy- Are hallucinations usually this realistic?

"Hmm...in any case, let me introduce myself, I'm Emmett."

Emmett... I ran his name in my head. Why was he polite to me? Wasn't he a demon or something? Or was he some kind of freak angel sent by God? This is normal, right? People who have had near-death experiences see angels sometimes. This is hardly what I expected an angel to look like.

"If you don't mind me asking... what _are_ you?"

"Oh, my bad, I'm a Shinigami. And you've got my notebook. My Death Note."

I took a side glace to my sports bag; innocently idle there on my floor.

Good God- I've got something that he wants. "Oh, I'm sorry, do you want it back? I didn't know what it was.."

"I don't think you get the point- human."

How insulting. A HUMAN. I know what I am, but no need to express my mortality as a crutch.

"I dropped the notebook, and you picked it up, now it's yours. Got it?"

"So, you're NOT gonna rip my head off if I don't give it back?"

"Nope. I just have to sit back, relax, and babysit you until you don't want it anymore."

I stopped to think a little bit. To be honest I really had no clue what to do next. Do I ask him questions? What could I possibly use this notebook for that could be entertaining? The way he shoots his mouth off makes it look like there's going to be some kind of show.

"Look, Emmett, what kind of stunt are you trying to pull on me? It's a fucking notebook." I wiggled my hands up near his face in a spooky fashion, "Oohohoh, soo scary."

Obviously annoyed, Emmett took a monster of a step forward with his long legs, backing me up against a wall.

"That-" he pointed to the bag that housed the notebook, "is no ORDINARY notebook. If you write any person's name in it while picturing their face in your _puny_ brain, they will die of a heart attack." He scowled slightly after putting light emphasis on the word 'puny'. It took me a moment to take all that in, but...could it be real? True? Possible? Heart attack. Was this related to what happened to me?

"Nevermind, I can already see that you don't believe me. You know, the only way to find out if it works is if you test it out." he made a smirk that was surely coated in evil.

How dare he _dare_ me. So he wants a show? Guess what, I'll bore him to death. No notebook-testing, no show. I ignored him as he wandered, or hovered, rather around my room. I slung my bag onto the fuzzy black office chair near my computer desk. As I unpacked, Emmett investigated my CD's on the 4 shelves on one wall. I could tell he had no clue what it was, because he held one to his face like a sandwich. I got the notion he wanted to ask about it, but didn't think he actually would, having been a little upset with me for dissing his pretty diary. I finally got tired of glancing over at Emmett to see him examining a CD from nearly all angles, so I marched over, snatched it from his hands, opened the case, and stuck it in my CD player, and pressed play. He stood there as if I'd called him pussy for not knowing what a CD was, but then the "3OH!3" song started to play, and he was immediately distracted.

I muttered to myself, "You are so weird."

After I put away the few things that were in my bag, I shoved it back into my closet. Just as I did, a faint knock came from my door. Two words raced through my mind-

Oh shit.

There's a Shinigami- a Death God- in my room, and I can't exactly pass him off as 'A friend of mine' to Aunt Marissa, can I? She'd scream and pass-out from just looking at his face. I started to panic- not knowing where I'm going to hide a 7 foot tall God of Death.

He was still admiring all of the features of my stereo when I grabbed his leathery arm and dragged him hastily to my closet.

"Stay here- I cannot let my aunt see you. GOT IT?" I strictly whispered.

I think he just went along with it- me panicking and all. I shut the door as best as I could, and then saw that his right leg was totally stuck in the door, and sticking half way out.

"Ahk!" I quickly tried to shove it back in, but Aunt Marissa came in my room and turned the corner.

At the last second, I braced myself over the gap in the door, and hid Emmett's leg as best as I could.

"Makenna...? What are you doing? I've been calling you down for dinner for the past 15 minutes. So, I just decided to bring it to you. Is that alright?" I gazed at what she had in her hands- a big bowl of Macaroni and cheese with a bottle of Mtn. Dew.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks Aunt Marissa, it looks great!" I could tell she wasn't going to leave until she knew what I was doing pinned up against the closet door like this.

"Dare I ask why you're in that position, dear?"

"No, I'd rather you not."

"Well, I'm going to ask anyway. What are you doing in that position?" she lifted one eyebrow.

"Hehehe- funny story you see, I-"

"Is there something you're hiding from me?"

"N-no."

"Well, you know how I am, please step aside, Makenna."

"But- you can't!"

I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat, and painfully stepped aside. What is she going to do when she sees Emmett? What if she calls the police, or something?

Before opening the door, she made me hold my food.

She slid open closet door, "Makenna, I think you're a little looney." she looked around a little, but didn't notice anything in particular. LIKE A 7 FOOT TALL DEATH GOD- RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER.

I wanted to yell at her, but couldn't she see him?

Suddenly, Emmett started to talk- "Hey, Makenna, Can I come out of the closet now? I want to listen to your Aerosmith..uh, CD."

"SHHHH!" I shushed Emmett.

"What?" Aunt Marissa peeped, like she wasn't expecting me to say anything

"Y-yeah, I guess I am! Looney-that is."

"Maybe you should lay off the medications, dear." Aunt Marissa rolled her eyes at me, and went downstairs closing the door behind her.

After I was sure she was at the bottom of the staircase, I turned to argue with Emmett, but he was already messing with my stereo.

"Hey! What was that all about? Is there something that you forgot to mention?"

"Like..?" Emmett spun his head to question me

"I mean like how other people CAN'T SEE YOU?"

"Cool, huh? Yeah only the current owner of the notebook can see and hear me. Problem is, they can still hear _you_ if you try to talk to me. I almost laughed when you 'shushed' me. Your aunt was starting to look a little creeped out. But if anybody else touches the Death Note, they can see me." he chuckled.

I sneered, before realizing-

WOA- wait...

"How did you know my name? And how did you know she was my aunt, and not my mother? Most people would think she's my mom if they didn't know anything about me. And YOU didn't know anything about me- did you?"

"Ah, you caught that huh?" Emmett moved over to me, and raised his head in a sense of pride. But that was when I noticed his eyes. They were evil- yellow eyeballs with a solid red pupil in the middle. He never blinked either.

"You see," he continued, "there are tons of things that Shinigami can do that humans can't. We can fly, we don't age, and..." He lowered his face to my level, and stared at me with those demonic red eyes hiding behind his bangs. "Death Gods can see the name and lifespan of every human they look at."

For real? I wanted to ask, but I knew that he wasn't screwing with me.

I tried not to show shock, but I was clearly impressed. "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm saying that if you want, we can make a deal."

Never mind, I didn't like where this was going.

"I can give you the power to see other people's names and lifespans like I do."

"In exchange for what? My soul?"

"Close enough- half of your remaining lifespan."

...Half? Of MY life?

"What?"

"Let's say that you will live to be 80 years of human age- and you make this deal with me, then you will only live to be 40 years of age, get it? And by the way, I'll be the one to write your name in my Death Note when that day comes."

There was a moment of silence among us.

"How does that sound...Makenna?"

My name does not sound pleasant in his scratchy voice.

It would be a really cool ability, but half of my remaining lifespan? That's a lot... I would assume- anyway. A fourth...that's not AS bad...maybe..

"It sounds alright, but how's just one shinigami eye for 1/4 of my lifespan?"

"Uh...I think that's doable..." Emmett scratched his head, "Sure, which eye?"

"Alright."

I waited for a second, waiting for some mysterious glow to come about me, or something mystical.

"Well...?" Emmett acted as if HE were the one waiting for something.

"Nothing happened." I repelled.

"Try winking."

I winked with my left eye closed, and sure enough, the room had changed and had a slight reddish tint, but I couldn't see Emmett's name or lifespan. Probably because he can't die.

"I wanna see something." I ran downstairs and found my Aunt Marissa in the kitchen eating her dinner while watching a small portable DVD player on the table.

Without turning around, I knew that Emmett was behind me.

"Hi, hun. Do you need something?" Aunt Marissa looked up from her casserole.

Testing my new ability, I winked with my right eye, and instantly saw Aunt Marissa's first name, followed by her maiden name floating above her head. Below her name, were some numbers that I didn't understand.

"31.05.18."

I'll have to ask Emmett how to read them when I get back upstairs.

"Makenna...hello?" My Aunt waved her hand in front of my face, while I was reading the numbers.

"Uh, no, I'm fine, I just wanted to see what you were doing, is all." I lied, opening both eyes.

"Makenna, you're eye, it's all red. Does it hurt?"

This isn't good, is the red tint I see visible to others?

"N-no, it's fine."

My aunt got up from her seat, and tried to examine my eye. I pulled away.

"It's just from the medication they gave me. I'm fine." I ran off to my room.

When I got there, Emmett was already looking through my video games on another shelf. Emmett begins to cackle. It was then that I realized, by making this deal, I am already beginning to entertain him. I think I just signed my life.. well ¼ at least, into something I wasn't totally sure I could handle.

The show will go on.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, what's this?" Emmett called me over and pointed to my Xbox.

"Oh that? That's a video game console."

"What does it do?"

I walked over to Emmett, and handed him a wireless controller. "Hold onto that like this." I demonstrated to him with a spare.

While I inserted the game disk and started the Xbox, Emmett tried to hold it - half expecting it to blow up.

"We'll play GTAIV for now. It's easy, just drive around. You hold down this button to drive, and move the joystick to turn."

He looked at the controller, and then at the TV screen.

"Erm.."

"Do you get it?"

He sat silent.

"I'll take that as a yes."

I sat on the floor near him and ate my Mac-n-cheese with a Mtn. Dew.

"Makenna, this is really hard, I don't see how you humans do this for fun." He darted the controller here and there, trying to physically turn it to get it to move the car on the screen, failing, only causing it to sit idle on the street.

"Oh, God. Just wait until I teach you how to play Rock Band."

"Rock..Band?" The words obviously weren't part of his vocabulary.

After I finished eating, I ran my bowl and empty glass to the kitchen. Aunt Marissa was watching another chick-flick thing on her little DVD player.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, just dropping off my bowl."

"Oh, alright...if you insist. I made you cherry pie, would you like to split some with me?"

I looked at her, she really seemed grateful that I was alive and home safe. I figured I could spare an hour and a half eating cherry pie and watching a chick-flick with my Aunt.

"Sure." I smiled.

"Why don't you pick out a different movie, this one's boring me to death." she clanked around in the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of clean forks.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?"

"Mmm... something that'll make you laugh."

I looked through our familiar library of movies in the living room bookshelf. I analyzed each one, remembering my favorite parts from each.

"Hey, Makenna, you didn't come back, so I left the game on and-" A death God's familiar voice came from behind me.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm going to watch a movie. You can do what you want."

"Makenna? You're talking to yourself again. Is it the pills, or are you schizophrenic now?"

"Sorry, just thinking out loud."  
This was going to be tough to get used to; I literally have to shut off the part of my mind that talks to Emmett when I'm around other people. If I don't learn to control myself, my Aunt might actually think I've got Schizophrenia. That's the last thing I need – another trip to the hospital with unanswerable questions.

I looked away from the movie shelf, and back at my 'imaginary friend'. Emmett was looking up at the sky out our back door.

In a pondering voice, Emmett commented on the night sky. I didn't make an effort to understand.

"That's very interesting..." he'd say.

...

"Makenna. We have to leave. Now." Emmett poked me on the cheek as I lay sprawled on the couch. It's 11:00 am. The awake portion of my brain laughed about being poked by an invisible, untouchable entity as a wake-up call. I must have fallen asleep during the movie last night.

"Why?" I groan.

"There's a meeting. We have to go. This is important."

"Ok... lemmie shower." I fumbled off the couch and up to my room, into the shower. 15 minutes later a more awake and clean version of myself stepped out into the bathroom...without a towel.

I frantically start looking around, praying I might find one. Nothing.

ACK.

I had no choice.

"Hey, Emmett?"

"What? Are you done? We need to go."

"C-can you get me a towel?" I clenched my teeth at the thought of having to walk out there- in the NUDE.

"...What's a tow-eell?"

I knew this would happen. "It's... like a blanket, but its fuzzier."

"...What's a blanket?"

"Just- do your best. OK? I believe in you."

moments later, a teddy bear appeared in the crack of my door. "Is this.. a tow-eell?"

"No..."

A pillow made its way into the door way, "How about this?"

"No, but you're getting close." I think. "It's a big rectangular piece of cloth." I could tell he was getting more confused by the second.

"Makenna, just come out. Whatever you need this tow-eell for isn't' that important right now."

He had no idea. I let out an agitated sigh. "Please don't look- ok?"

"I don't get you. Look at what? Humans are so picky. You play stupid games, and need stupid things at stupid times, and-"

I bolted out of the bathroom and to my bed to grab a blanket as soon as I could- I WOULD have gotten there, if only I hadn't run straight into Emmett. Who happened to be on the other side of the bathroom door the entire time.

needless to say, I screamed, he stood gawking down at me.

"EMMETT! STOP LOOKING AT ME."

"Why?"

"You really are clueless aren't you?"

"I guess."

"Humans don't like to be looked at when they don't have clothes on. It makes us feel embarrassed."

"I don't know what that means."

Darting around him timidly, I wrapped myself in a blanket, then a towel from my closet. Emmett was no longer paying attention to me, he was instead flipping through radio channels on my stereo.

It sounds strange if I say "my Shinigami" because... it's like he's a pet. A death-controlling manifestation from another world who got bored one day and decided to share his diary with a human, which, sounds pretty pathetic if you ask me.

I nearly fell down the stairs this morning on my way to the kitchen. Just as I was opening the fridge to get a class of apple juice, Emmett started to yell at me again.

"Makenna, If we don't leave now we'll miss it."

"Ok, jeez."

"You know you still haven't used the death note since you got it."

"Yeah I know."

"Don't you want it? If you don't I can take it from you. But I'd have to erase your memory and stuff.."

"No. Don't take it."

I grabbed my purse, filled my wallet with some cash for McDonalds breakfast, my cell phone, a pen or two, and a hand held game for Emmett. Before leaving, I left a note for Marissa, saying I went out for a drive and to get coffee, mostly because I didn't actually know where I was going, or how long we would be gone.

"Where are we going anyways?"

"New.. York."

"We're in New York, smart one." I rolled my eyes at Emmett.

"The W Times Square Hotel." He spoke the name as if he had rehearsed it a million times, but never actually knew what he was saying. Kind of like those comments you have to make in class about a book you never actually read.

"Awesome! I'll need to grab more stuff."

"Huh? No- we need to go now."

"It's a hotel! And a Super nice one at that- I need to put something nice on, and pack some clothes. I'll just have to tell Aunt Marissa that I'm staying at a friend's house tonight." I head back upstairs and yank the familiar pink bag from the bottom of my closet. Good enough.

"You would lie to your aunt?"

"Dude, I am lying as it is. Because nobody but me and you really knows what's going on."

"I see your point."

I made a quick adjustment to the note I left in the kitchen for Marissa and Bill before heading out to my yellow Subaru in the garage. Emmett ended up lying down in the back seat because the front didn't give him enough room for his long-ass legs.

"Why are we going to this meeting? Who's going to be there?"

"I am not authorized to tell you that." He mono-toned at me.

I took a peek in my overhead mirror to see him- he found the hand held game I had stashed in my bag. At least he was occupied. I backed out of the short driveway a little awkwardly, my focus was thoughts, which were nothing but jumbled questions.

"How come? Is it a Shinigami thing only?"

"Nope."

"Then can you tell me?"

"Nope."

"Why?" I was getting a little irritated. Trying my best to focus on the road and maintain my speed.

"I could. But I don't feel like it. I'm on the last..part..of the..."

I waited for him to finish- but he never did. Buttons clicked continuously from the gaming unit.

I pulled over to the side of the street near a Walgreen's on the edge of town. I looked back- half angry, half humored.

"Hey."

No response.

"EMMETT."

I had no choice but to snatch the electronic device from his grasp.

He stopped- hands reaching out for it, but I was too quick.

"C-can I have it again, please?" his voice nearly cracked like a small adolescent boy.

"Not until you give me the information I need. And then not only will I throw this idiotic thing out the window, but I will drive back home without going to your precious meeting."

Still awkward silence sat between us only for a moment or two. Emmett sadly glanced back at the game in my hand, which was away from him. His silence indicated the temptation to give in to my demands.

"I'm part of a secret organization of Shinigami- one of six to be exact- who have joined together to make a difference in the human world for the better. The humans who possess Death Notes were not chosen, but fated to be the leaders of your new society."

I think my brain just had a train wreck inside. My jaw was practically unhinged from its normal place on my face.

Uhm? Wow. I thought I was just some lucky person who had this nifty book that can kill people. Damn. I guess it _is_ kind of important that I be on time with this meeting.

"ALRIGHT. Thanks for the tip." I handed my Gameboy back to Emmett, who gladly scooped it up as if it were made of gold.

Knowing that I'm part of a plan- and not in my own little world made me think. Never did it occur to me that something like this would happen. Especially since I nearly died a few days ago. I seriously considered if my near-death experience had anything to do with my possession of a Death Note. Wait- Emmett said it was a random thing. Maybe I'm over-thinking it. However, I think it's safe to say that things are not going to be the same way again.

Shaking the overpowering thoughts out of my mind, I again- started my Subaru, and continued to New York City.

Again, I failed to hide my attention to my imaginary friend to the public as I, Entering the W Times Square Hotel, held the door open for him like I would for any ordinary person on the street, until I realized that he could walk through the door without it being opened, and there was no person behind me for the door to be held for. I continued to the lobby desk, and tried to pretend that I was alone. The hotel lobby was empty. Very empty.

As I approach the desk, a man wearing a grey suit eyed me peculiarly. Before I could say anything he opened his mouth, "Are you here for the AIG meeting by any chance?"

AIG? As in American International Group? Was that the cover-up? Emmett nudges my arm, "say yes."

"Yes, Sir."

"They are on the top floor, but you'll need this card to access it when you get in the elevator." The man behind the desk pulled a white card with a red "W" out from a drawer and slid it on the granite counter in front of me.

"Thank you." I lift the card, and choose one of three elevators at the other end of the lobby.

Emmett almost didn't fit in the elevator- but I don't think it mattered. "AIG?"

The Shinigami looked at me, "Yes. Do you know it?"

"I know that they were a huge insurance company until 2014 when they joined Berkshire Hathaway. Berkshire had adopted GEICO by then, too. So the AIG are pretty damn powerful."

"Yes."

The elevator came to a halt, and then an automated voice asked, "Please insert card."

There was a little slot near the dash of buttons. I slipped the card in- the slot absorbed the card, scanned it, and then spit it back out. A little green light came on next to it. Cool. Stepping out of the elevator, I took a look around. A furnished room opened up. A young boy (maybe 13) sat reading a novel on one of the armchairs. Then a tough-looking Italian-American girl with short spiky black hair stormed over to me. A group of burly men watched from the far end of the room.

"HEY. CHICK."

"Eh...? Me?" Not gonna lie, I don't get called 'chick' often, let alone by another...chick.

"Yeah you. Who else do ya think I'm talking about?" She got all up-in-my-face. "Are you supposed to be here?" a wad of gum bounced around in her mouth as she spoke.

"Yes."

"REALLY?" She laughed. She was quite loud. "Show me ya book." A sassy hand was thrown in front of me.

My...book? AH my Death Note! Boy, am I glad I brought it.

"S-sure." I flipped it out of my shoulder bag, and the girl took it from me.

"Daamn aint he tall!" She stood in awe looking up. I assume she could see Emmett. Like he told me, one touch of the book and anybody can see him.

"Here- The name's Krissy. Vaughn. And this is Trinity." Extra emphasis was placed on the T's in Trinity's name. Krissy pulled a grey notebook out from her back pocket. Kind of a stupid place to keep something so important.

I took hold of the book, and sure enough, a female shinigami was peering from behind Krissy. Her hair was mid-length washed-out grey-green. A tribal tatoo covered her decaying skin. A tattered purple dress flowed around her. She was really short compared to Emmett. Maybe a foot taller than me- as compared to Emmett who was a good 2 and a half feet taller than myself.

_DING_

The elevator doors behind me slid open, to present a sharply dressed young man about my age. Blonde, shaggy hair fell close to his face. "I deeply apologize for being late- I had some last minute _business_ to attend to."

Krissy eyed him up and down. "Now aint you somethin' pretty."

I stepped out of the way so he could enter the room. "Book please." Krissy again, slapped her hand out into the air to retrieve a Death Note.

"Oh, excuse my rudeness." The man opened his coat and revealed a black book similar to mine, though much older and made of leather. "This is Jay. And I'm Dillon Slater- Hitman."

My skin crawled. Hitman? My lord. What is going to happen to this world? I took hold of the death note first, before passing it to Krissy. I looked up, but there was no Shinigami.

"Uhm.." I turned around, and there it was. About the same height as Emmett, this Shinigami had a dark face with no features other than his eyes and a gold-plated toothy smile. He wore a dusty pinstriped mafia suit- home to several bullet holes.

"This one is clever...Slater." The Shinigami named Jay pointed out as he glared down at me.

"And you are?" Dillon somewhat ignored Jay's comment and turned to me.

"Uh- Makenna Thatch, nice to meet you Mr. Slater."

"Just call me Dillon. Only the people I have _trouble_ with call me Mr. Slater." He chuckled a bit and winked. Sadly I pictured a squeamish little man begging for mercy at Dillon's feet. I guess I don't want to have_ trouble_ with him.

"UH- HELLO?" Krissy snapped her fingers right in Dillon's face. He blinked at her.

"Ya- I'm Krissy Vaughn. Nice ta meetcha." She used a bit of unpleasant sarcasm.

"And so you are." Dillon commented- walking off to sit in one of the chairs in the room. I looked up at Emmett, who was eyeing Krissy's Shinigami, Trinity.

Then I scanned the room again- and the young boy caught my attention again. He must have noticed I was looking at him, because he shut his book and stood from his comfy spot in the chair.

"Sorry. I had to finish the chapter." Setting the novel on a nearby table, he replaced it with a dark red hard-bound death note. "Please excuse Chuck's accent. He's a bit hard to understand at times. My name's Seth Jamison, and I'm in the 7th grade."

Again, with the passing around of the death note, I was able to see 'chuck'. He was probably the most frightful death god I had ever seen. Not like I've seen many, but I think it was a fair assumption. Decked-out in a black and red checkered clown outfit with big curly shoes and shredded balloon pants. His face was almost like a demonic version of 'Ronald McDonald'. The ghostly white skin and smeared makeup reminded me of that old horror film "IT".

"Fantoche Malintentionne. He-hee."

"Say what?" Krissy squashed her face, showing disinterest.

God, it sounds creepy too.

"It means Malevolent Puppet. Eh Francois."

Seth piped up, "But I call him chuck. It's ten times easier to say."

Oh great. A demonic clown with a French accent and creepy voice whose name means malevolent puppet but the **kid** Seth calls him "chuck". O-KAY then. NOW I CAN TRULY SAY: I'VE SEEN IT ALL.


	4. Chapter 4

A little more awake this morning than the last, not only thanks to better recovery from being out of the hospital, but being in an elegant suite certainly helped. I recalled that there was going to be a continuation of yesterday's meeting due to the lack of members that were supposed to show up yesterday. Enjoying the incredibly fancy shower in the W Times, I thought about each person I met. The 13 year old Seth, the Dillon, and Krissy. This world is going to get one big kick in the pants. And I'll have to keep this a complete secret from everybody I knew. I mean- how was I supposed to tell my aunt? "Hey, Aunt Marissa, it's me, Makenna calling from the White House. And I just killed the president. By the way, I'm working for a criminal organization led by supernatural beings who want to take over the world." That sounded great. And what are we going to do about the United States government? Hack into their system and write down every police officer's name into the Death Note? Oh yes, _very_ practical. I think I'll laugh if this whole thing even gets anywhere past introductions.

I stepped out of the glass-paned shower into the steamy bathroom. The white tiles were cold under my fleshy feet. The mirror was covered in hot water vapor. I wiped it away with my hand, revealing my reflection. I certainly don't look like somebody of power. Let alone, a silent killer. I'm a college student studying the arts. I used to have dreams of becoming an actress. Now I'm not so sure those dreams are reachable now. I erase my thoughts and continue preparing for the unpreparable.

"You know..."

I gasp; Emmett had been completely quiet up until now.

"It's more fun for me if I can hear what you're thinking. You shouldn't keep me wondering. I might start to annoy you on purpose."

"Sorry, I'm not used to sharing my thoughts. Besides, you might not like what you hear." I pull up my left ankle-high boot, and look at Emmett, who was perched up on the hotel television set.

"Sure I will. And besides, I don't get angry very easily."

"I was just wondering if this whole 'take over the world thing' will actually work. There's a reason America is considered the most powerful nation in the world."

"Wouldn't it be fun to see it fall?" He bursts out into a husky laugh.

I cough to myself. NOT REALLY.

The meeting was going to begin in about ninety minutes, so I figured I should get something to eat in the meantime. The lobby had food for the guests downstairs, but not like the normal hotels- this food was high class. You sat at a table in a grand dinner room and a waiter came to fulfill your orders. The good part is it was open all the time. Getting bored at midnight means I tend to read random things. Like the small booklet on my nightstand about everything the hotel offered. You might call it strange, I call it learning.

Making my way through the open lobby room and around to the dinner room, I couldn't help but notice the workout room to the left. A new addition, as I read. A pair of businessmen lifted weights together. The older one laughed. I wonder how his life will change once we start turning things around. Will his company fall, causing his house to foreclose or wife to leave him? Or will he work for us when we take over his company? The possibilities are endless. I wish everybody knew what we were going to do before it happens. At the same time, I wish nobody knew.

"Makenna, you were the one who told me people don't like it when you stare at them." Emmett poked the back of my head, and as I come to consciousness, I realize the two men in the workout room were looking at me strangely from behind the glass wall.

The older man in my thoughts raised an eyebrow at me and put his weights down. I mouthed "sorry" and scurried on down the pearly hall. As one of the six rulers of the new world, I'll probably be the most awkward. I can already tell I won't be very good at this. Time to put my future actress skills to the test, I suppose.

Receiving a tolerable 4 awkward glances from other people around me, I managed to snag a table for two in the grand dinner room, only to remember that Emmett was not going to sit down.

"I Keep forgetting only I can see you." I mumbled

"Yes, it makes you look ridiculous. I find it funny." Emmett was standing beside me as I sat down, not seeming particularly interested in anything.

"You're nice."

"Do you have the Gameboy?" Never mind; he _was_ interested in something. Emmett was about to search through my purse when I grabbed it myself and pretended to search through it.

"You can't play that right now. We are in public. Didn't you just tell me I can't do things like that last night; because people will just see a floating object?"

"Well. There could always be exceptions."

"No there's not, Emmett. Go wander around or something. Make a friend or two." I realized my voice was getting a tad louder than a whisper when another voice interrupted my next thought.

"Who would ever want to be friends with _you_?" The rattly voice came from above. It was the Mafia Shinigami, glaring at Emmett with his golden teeth.

I looked around for Dillon, but he was already sitting at the open chair across from me. "Good morning. Mind if I join you?" He fiddled with his wristwatch as I set my purse down on the floor.

"I don't mind at all." trying to hide my smile. He seemed more attractive in a less invasive and stressful situation such as yesterday's attempted meeting.

"How old are you?" He leaned in.

Bit of an outward question to ask an acquaintance I would think. I answered anyway, "I'm nineteen, yourself?"

"Fascinating, I'm twenty-three."

Suddenly knowing he's older than me gives him a sense of sexual superiority. Twenty-three, that's awful young to be a professional killer. Perhaps it was a family business. I roll-tapped my fingers on the table. Emmett and the dead mafia, Jay, were watching Dillon and I talk. "What happened to you guys wandering around or making friends?"

"I kill all my friends." Jay retorted.

"I don't need friends." Emmett reached for my purse, probably going to grab his precious Gameboy.

"Oh by the way I never had the Gameboy in my purse you'll have to go up to the room to find it." somehow having Dillon there at my table made talking to Emmett seem less awkward for both myself and other people around me. Without another word, Emmett unfolded his wings and flew up through the ceiling. 19 stories up.

"He'll be looking for nothing right?"

"It's hard enough to let him follow me all day. I don't need him nagging me for things on top of that."

"A bit high maintenance is he?" Dillon flagged a waiter over to us.

"Like a toddler." I folded my hands on the table and rolled my eyes.

He smiled at me, and I back at him. For a killer... he was polite, I had to admit I was taken by surprise. The morning was pleasant, and the coffee cake was excellent. It was- anyway- until everything was cut short by a disruptive bit of company.

"OH YES, I'M COMING MY LORDS, SPEAKERS FOR THE GODS! I WILL JOIN YOU SHORTLY!" Out from the corner of my eye, off down the hall in the lobby a burly Jamaican man dashed for the elevator, behind him pulling a massive suitcase.

"Please tell me he's not with us..." The silver fork fell from my hand, landing the small saucer beside the remnants of my coffee cake.

"I wish I could say otherwise." Dillon left a few bills on the table and implied that breakfast was over and we had to attend our meeting.

I scoop up my purse and toss my curly hair off my left shoulder and scurry after Dillon toward the elevator.

"Hustle, it'll be the end of the world if we don't make it to this meeting on time."

"I thought it was going to be the end of the world if we attended this meeting."

"Touché, but either way we are going to attend this meeting. I didn't fly out from Boston for nothing." Dillon initiated the return for an elevator.

Silently, we step in, selecting floor 20. I let out a deep breath as we pass the third floor, "So how much money does a hit man like _yourself_ make?"

Dillon raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms and turned to me, "I make as much money as I want. For obvious reasons, business has been exceptionally good lately."

I figured that he was completely taking advantage of his Death Note. Some person comes to him and says- I want 'so and so' killed slowly and painfully but leave no evidence. He gets the job done without laying a finger on the victim. I only wish I knew what to use my Death Note for, at the same time, I didn't want to use it at all.

"And how do you like Jay?" The Shinigami wasn't in the elevator with us at the moment, probably attending to business on the top floor already.

Dillon rolled his eyes and huffed, "The death note itself is my secret weapon. Jay is useless to me."

"You don't like having his company?" I, personally, setting aside his quirks, enjoy having Emmett to talk to in my solitude. He's always learning something knew. It makes me look smart.

"Uh. No. I don't take a liking to many people let alone Shinigami." Dillon straightened his tie at the neck and flipped his somewhat gorgeous head of golden hair as we passed the 15th floor.

"What about me? You didn't seem to mind my company at breakfast just now." A glint of curiosity flurried from my words.

"Well I have only just met you. I needed time to decide if I liked you or not."

Hmm, well the fact that he thought time was worth spending to decide if he liked me or not was flattering enough. I'm definitely feeling better about myself now than I did earlier.

Dillon and I step out of the elevator, greeting the familiar room with four others; the young boy, Krissy, the Jamaican man, and the fourth that I did not know.

"You're late." The fourth man had a stern face, maybe in his late forties?

"Put a sock in it. I'm using my vacation time for this. I would like to have some freedom." Dillon accused.

I whispered to him, "Hit men get vacation days?"

"Shh." Dillon avoided eye contact as he lied. I smiled to myself.

"Now, Miss Thatch, Mr. Slater, I am Cronin. This is Light." The old man tossed what appeared to be his death note across the room and into Dillon's possession. He then handed it to me.

A Shinigami about Emmett's height towered above Cronin. He was dressed in dirty pilot's clothing, unlike Emmett, this Shinigami was a fleshless skeleton.

"And I be Kojo Salazaar. May the takers of life feel merciful for you." Jamaican Kojo bows his head and walk over to Dillon and I. He shakes our hands, and bestows his death note to us.

Another girl Shinigami. And she was brilliant. No wonder he was brainwashed. She looked like a goddess. Silver gowns flowed out from her body, a cloth veil covering her nose and mouth. Gems glistened in her tattered white hair and on her skin. She was the most beautiful dead thing I have ever seen.

I look at Dillon who was less than interested in what she looked like. Whatever.

"Please, join us so we can begin this meeting." Cronin pulled two chairs from the dark oval table."Also, I'll have to ask for all the Shinigami to show themselves beside the possessor of their notebooks please."

Emmett and Jay came out of the floor and stood behind Dillon and myself.

"Now, let's address who we were chosen to be." Cronin tilts his head back proudly.

"Again, _Cronin_, I remind you that the humans you see sitting at this table, including yourself, were not chosen. They were randomly selected. We merely dropped our Death Notes onto Earth and the following people came into possession with them." The Shinigami, Light put Cronin in his place.

The way the Shinigami said his name. It was suspicious. I thought it was odd that Cronin didn't introduce himself as Mr. Cronin or as a full name. Perhaps Cronin isn't his real name. To check, I winked, using my Shinigami eye, and sure enough- his name wasn't Cronin at all. Mason Soto. What a liar. This eye deal is going to come in handy after all.

"So, in a sense, fate chose us." It was clear this _Cronin_ wanted to be correct at all times. And anonymous. "My friends, we are here to begin something that will change the world. We cannot be foolish about this. And we cannot waste away opportunities that come our way."

I look around at everybody else at the meeting. Dillon seemed bored. Krissy was annoyed, Seth seemed less than interested. I think Kojo and Cronin were the only ones who seemed entertained. It all seemed fake. Were we _really_ going to get anywhere with this? Sure the Death Note is a powerful tool, but its users have flaws. One wrong move and the whole operation could be ka-put. Then what? We just go back to our normal lives? Something tells me it's not that easy.

Cronin continued his lecture, "How does humanity survive? What is it that makes this complex clock tick? The answer, is money."

Krissy's eyes widened only a millimeter more, but enough for anybody to see that she was at least somewhat interested now. "What do we need money for?" Her attitude covered up her desire to know more.

"Good question. To overthrow this stale government we will need to stock up our expenses to show the world that we first have financial power. They might gain our trust- then we can show them what we can do. With enough money, anything is possible."

"And how do you expect to get this unfathomable amount of money? Don't expect donations from any of us." Dillon blurted out.

Yeah, really. Dillon had a point. I had just enough of money to finish my freshman year of college this May. I might have to start pulling out loans now.

"Glad to know I'm not in a room with total fools. You question everything. This is good. Let's begin with the Death Note." Cronin pauses to open his Death Note and read from the first page. I had read them too. They were the directions. It is kind of silly to think that a weapon of such power had to have directions.

"The human whose name is written in this note shall die. This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected. If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen." Cronin took a breath, "If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack. After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds."

The room was utterly silent. I know what the death note does. I think all of us do.

"Does anybody know who the wealthiest people in America are at the moment?"

We all looked around in curiosity.

"Let's start close to home. Our very own mayor, Michael Bloomberg, is worth 25 billion today, his age; 70. How about Walmart founder's son, Mr. Walton? At 21 billion, he too is over the hill at 68. Convenient, these numbers are, wouldn't you all say?" Cronin stood up from his chair and began pacing around the room slowly. "Any ideas? I know you all have brilliant minds…" He smiles eerily as he passes by each one of us.

Krissy, still interested, and clearly using all of her brain power to muster up an answer, says, "We could… kill them and take their money?"

Cronin stops, grins, and replies, "Very Good!"

"No, You idiots." Seth, the 7th grader yelps. "If you take their money it's theft. If you simply kill them, we don't have any way of keeping the cash flow coming in. We should use the Death Note to make them entrust to us the right to own their wealth, either the rights to the company or to own their estate- what have you- by forcing them to write us in their will before they die."

Attention turns to Cronin, who was now standing behind his own empty chair, clapping. "Brilliant, my boy. I couldn't have planned it better myself. In fact, I'll let you be in charge of our accounting situation since it was your idea."

Seth said nothing in reply. He simply acknowledged Cronin's appreciation for his intellect, and continued paying attention to the meeting. Krissy was glaring at the other end of the large oval table. None of the Shinigamis have said anything, let alone, looked at anybody in particular since the meeting began.

This really was just a game for them.


End file.
